Gagged
by Ceasefire
Summary: [HavocRoy] Jean Havoc’s logic left much to be desired. It's a good thing he was lucky.


Merry Christmas, Spades 44! I hope I managed to fit in everything you wished from this fic.

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Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc reclined in his chair, took a long drag on his cigarette and watched his superior officer link all the paperclips in his drawer together in a chain. He'd been watching the Colonel for the past two days for a report for the higher-ups in the Observation Department, and while he did usually observe the Colonel more often than was healthy, at least he was getting paid overtime for it this time around. Mustang gave a strange, low-pitched cackle in the back of his throat and he threaded another paperclip onto the chain that now took up most of his desk, and then reached for the box that had contained the clips.

"Curses," he snapped, sticking his gloves index finger into the box and flicking it around impatiently.

"Something wrong, Chief?" Havoc questioned, tapping the burnt-out tobacco from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on his desk.

"I've run out of paperclips."

Lieutenant Hawkeye gave a bemused, overly audible sigh and returned to taking notes from a list of retirees.

"No offense, but shouldn't you be doing work?"

"Shouldn't _you_, Lieutenant Havoc?"

Havoc gestured pointedly to the small stack of papers in front of him, and Mustang planted his hands on his hips ask gave a soft _tsk_ sound under his breath.

"Fine. I'm going to the supply cupboard."

"Have fun, Colonel," Hawkeye commented lightly, and Roy shot her a glare before he strode out of the office and slammed the door behind him.

The office fell into quiet after that, except for the occasional mumbling from Hawkeye about the Colonel's immaturity. Havoc sat at his desk tensely, staring at the Observation Journal he was supposed to be keeping of Mustang; shouldn't he actually be watching what the Colonel was doing outside of the office, too? Ten minutes ticked by, then twenty, and finally after Roy had been away for a good half-hour, Hawkeye placed her pen down on the desk and stood up.

"Lieutenant! Where are you going, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm going to look for the Colonel, Havoc," Riza replied, brow creasing slightly at Jean's hasty inquiry, "Is there anything wrong?"

Havoc stood and saluted; she was his superior and the officer in charge in Mustang's absence, after all.

"I would like to request that I go after the Colonel."

"Why would you want to do that, Lieutenant?"

"You seem busy with all those papers, Lieutenant Hawkeye, and I would hate for you to have to be distracted from such an important task."

"You seem busier than I do," Hawkeye commented, and Havoc glanced sheepishly at the pile of papers on his desk that was now at least two inches thick, "But if you really want to save me the trouble, go ahead."

"Thank you, Sir."

"Good luck, Lieutenant," Hawkeye returned the salute that Havoc had given her and sat back down behind her desk.

_Good luck?_ Why would he need good luck? It wouldn't be as if Mustang had surgically attached himself to the stupid cupboard or anything, would it? Havoc stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and then walked through the door of the office, hanging an immediate left to go down the corridor next to their room in HQ; the quickest way to get to the supplies area was to take the service routes that were used less frequently by soldiers, and Havoc doubted that Mustang had wanted to crash into many people on his way.

The door of the Supplies area was slightly ajar when Havoc arrived, and he pushed the door open slowly, knowing that he sure as Hell wouldn't want to startle the Colonel while he had his gloves on.

"Hey, Chief?" he inquired softly. Receiving no reply, he kicked the door open with the toe of his boot, and found his superior officer lying comfortably on the small shelf at the back of the cupboard; the space was so small that Mustang had his legs propped up against the wall, but that didn't seem to cause him any discomfort because he was sound asleep. Havoc quickly whipped the small logbook out of his back pocket and sat down on the filing cabinet next to Mustang, scrawling notes rapidly while staring at the way dust was drawn toward his boss's mouth when he breathed in.

Then suddenly, Roy rolled over onto his back; both limb on the right side of his body drooped off the edge of his resting place, but his mouth remained slightly open, lips slightly pursed, and _oh, damn_ that was tempting in itself. But for now, that slight urge would have to be ignored, because Jean had suddenly noticed that his superior's chest (that nice, smooth chest- _Stop thinking about that!_) had stopped rising and falling.

_'Is he choking on that dust he was breathing in or something? Is he even breathing!'_

Just as he was about to jump into Mustang's lap and perform CPR, his commanding officer gave a little cough and began breathing normally again. Havoc wasn't quite sure if he was happy Roy was alive or if he was disappointed that he didn't get to perform said CPR.

The fact that Mustang had nearly suffocated himself did not, apparently, change how tempted Havoc was to kiss him; as if Roy was a mind reader, his tongue suddenly flicked across his own lips, dampened them against the dry air, and Havoc was quite sure he was going to either snog him or pass out in a matter of seconds. The former seemed more desirable compared to the latter, but Jean wasn't quite sure he had the courage.

'_Are you going to get another chance like this?' _

'Probably not, but doyou not have any morals?'

'One simple kiss, and he'll never know.'

"Okay, perhaps I don't have any morals..." Jean grumbled, glancing at Roy, "But neither does he. We're just on different levels of moral corruption."

He looked at his superior; the messy black hair, the slight flickering of his eyelids as he dreamed, the dulcet tone of his voice as he moaned Havoc's name…

Wait. Hold that thought, please.

"Jean..."

Okay, that had sure sweetened the deal, in his humble opinion. Without thinking, Havoc leaned closer to Roy, lips a mere inch from the sleeping man's, hesitated for the briefest moment...

"Lieutenant?" Mustang's sleep-addled, husky voice murmured, "What are you..."

Havoc was a little too involved in leaning in at just the right angle to press Roy's lips gently against his own to notice the question.

The way Havoc kissed was strange, Roy had to admit; it was delicate but long, like he was making up for the lack of passion with the time it took to enjoy the feeling of the embrace. This theory was corrected in the next instant, as Jean brushed his tongue along Roy's bottom lip, and the smaller man could find nothing better to do that moan softly and accept the kiss, teeth tugging on Havoc's lips in return even as he broke away in shock.

"Colonel, Sir!" Havoc exclaimed. He stood up straight, almost fell over his own feet in the process and snapped a sharp salute when he'd managed to regain his balance.

"Havoc, Havoc, Havoc," Roy said, voice husky with suppressed amusement, "Just what the Hell were you doing just now?"

"Nothing, Sir."

"Indeed, that was nothing," Mustang stood, perfectly calm and walked towards Havoc, who immediately began synchronizing his own steps backward with Roy's steps forward, "It was nothing compared to this."

His subordinate paused in confusion just long enough for Roy to grab the lapels of his uniform jacket and pull him closer.

And as the Colonel held him and he gladly let his tongue rise to meet the insistent presence of his superior's kiss, Havoc figured that perhaps he should have the confidence to make the first move just that little bit more often.

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When Sergeant Fuery returned from his lunch break, Lieutenant Hawkeye couldn't help but stare at the mortified expression on the young man's face.

"What's wrong, Sergeant?"

"Sir... I just saw the most horrible thing!"

Riza's brow furrowed, and Kain gave a pathetic little hiccup.

"Lieutenant Havoc… he was trying to suffocate the Colonel!"

Hawkeye could only sigh, return to her work and wonder how she ended up as a colleague to such clueless males.

**END**

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Hmmm… not bad, not bad. My first real Havoc/Roy with any plot, so pretty good! I hope you liked this! 


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